


Love is...

by chottostop



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 19:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6579085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chottostop/pseuds/chottostop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>every akafuri i've ever written ever (from my fic tumblr). chapters not arranged in order of original post date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 10-word fic challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember lj??? remember fic challenges on lj????  
> akafuri (feat. kuroko and akadad), pg  
> list taken from [here](https://creativecopychallenge.wordpress.com/2015/05/19/writing-prompts-creative-copy-challenge-384/) (didn’t follow the rules tho haha)  
> pov shifts throughout btw
> 
> original post date: may 20, 2015

1\. Denim  
the day after:  
masaomi’s eyes narrow. “you never wear denim.”

2\. Forcefield  
kouki playing basketball, singing while making breakfast in your kitchen.

3\. Froth  
beer froth tastes less bitter than kouki leaving. seijuurou drinks.

4\. Campaign  
“i can win everything, even presidency,”  
“including my heart?”  
“yes.”

5\. Fog  
seijuurou’s confession: heart drawings on foggy windows.  
kouki’s answer: </3

6\. Stretching  
“furihata-kun is really flexible,” texts kuroko.  
“i know,” replies akashi.

7\. Glasses  
‘on akashi?’ asks furihata over LINE, ‘HOT.’  
kuroko stops replying.

8\. Stopper  
something you think you need, regarding your feelings for akashi.

9\. Coloured (love-live ref bc i am ll-sif trash there is no redemption for me)  
“wrong team,” grumbles akashi. “didn’t get s-rank.”  
furihata pats him.

10\. Sanction  
“punishment,” akashi whispers over furihata’s lips, “for stealing my heart.”


	2. 3 sentence ask box fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what the title says
> 
> original post dates, from 1-3: Nov 13, 2015; Nov 12, 2015; Nov 12, 2015

**1\. "something to do with the mail au" asked by castella-rays**

kouki is laying out breakfast on the table when he hears seijuurou say, in a very soft voice, the way seijuurou sounds when he’s ‘stupid happy’ (as kuroko coined it), “oh, this looks very nice.”

kouki peeks from the dining area to the genkan of their apartment, and asks, curiousity piqued, “what is it?”

“a sample print of our wedding invitation.”

 

 

 

**2\. "akafuri - mutual pining au thank you :):)" asked by cerberosthehellguard**

“i broke up with him,” furihata says, looking akashi straight in the eye, “because i realized i didn’t love him, and shouldn’t give him false hopes.”

akashi doesn’t answer immediately (because he might betray how relieved he was at that, and feeling like so would just be inappropriate), but instead takes furihata’s hand, smiling.

“you did the right thing,” akashi says later, hopeful, when furihata squeezes his hand.

 

 

 

**3\. "akafuri ghost au :DD" asked by mayuzumichiihiro**

“it was right over here,” says the taxi driver, amused, “some ten years ago, saw it with my two eyes–outstanding youth died in a car crash.”

furihata nods, because he knows it too: the calls of condolences, the mornings when the bed felt too big, taking the full brunt of the blame, living but dying with every breath.

the taxi passes by a flickering lamp post, under it a fancy white car, beside it stood a man with familiar red hair decked in black, but when furihata blinks, there was no one there.


	3. Christmas AUs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dropped, so only two parts out of what should have been six (the 5+1 thing) sorry
> 
> original post date: Dec 6, 2012

**i.[Christmas Truce](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_truce)**

seijuurou is a sergeant sent by the government to make sure no truce ever happens again. the media had been like vultures, feasting on accounts of truces between the enemy and their soldiers. naturally, the government was disgusted. "treason,“ was what his general called it.

they sneak in from the back, making sure to be hidden from view of both their allies and enemies. sure enough, there was something going on. soldiers from both sides, running off to meet each other midway to exchange gifts or goods, getting scolded by their superiors, getting shot at. the others persisted.

 _it is truly laughable_ , seijuurou thinks, _we’re at war!_

he looks a little to the left of where the enemy had set up their trenches. there’s an officer screaming in a mixture of curses and commands while an underling runs off to meet an enemy, his ally, holding what looked like chocolates. from what seijuurou could tell, he had soft brown hair and a bright smile on his face (one a soldier from the front lines should not have), holding a gift of his own. he doesn’t look like someone who knows how to hold a gun much less shoot it, but this boy has a sniper secured on his back, and seijuurou respects him just a little bit.

the officer starts counting down, and his soldier scrambles to get back to base. the officer loads a rifle, now at 10, and aims it at the brunette. he runs as quick as he can, but drops the gift in his panic. he doesn’t turn back.

by the time the officer has counted down to zero, there is another soldier added to the list of casualties.

this is normal in battlefield, but there’s a painful aching in his chest that seijuurou cannot explain.

 

 

 

**ii. koizora au, fem!aka**

kouki is not with sei when she goes into labor.

he is not with her when the doctor tells her the bad news.

but when he arrives he is breathless, and hopeful, which makes sei want to punch him if she weren’t so weak. she opts for glaring, hoping all her rage comes through, but she forgets that kouki is bad at reading into things.

"is the baby alright? are you okay? how do you feel? i’m so happy you’re okay now. i was so worried i couldn’t think properly. i love you so much, sei.”

his arms around her are tight, and she fits him like two adjoining puzzle pieces. his warmth (he was running around, probably) as comforting as it was a heavy burden on her heart.

“i’m sorry i was gone, you see, i went to pray at the temple. i brought you an _omamori_. for you and the baby.”

why was he like this? it breaks sei’s heart into a million pieces when she tells kouki the baby didn’t make it, and a billion times more when he kisses her and whispers an ‘i love you’ into her ear, holding her tighter against him.

they decide to name the baby yuki, like the pure and white snow that fell around them. kouki swears sei his love will never change in front of the altar they make for their child. sei doesn’t doubt him.


	4. Dance AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idea based on step up revolution, esp [this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GxwcpFEUXRo)
> 
> original post date: Dec 13, 2013

“i’m not intelligent enough for a scholarship,” furihata confesses when akashi asks him why he keeps on dancing. “and there’s no other job i could take that could help me earn enough to pay for college fees and expenses.”

there was this one time furihata and his crew posed as statues at a museum event that had the organizers furious, despite the fact that the guests had loved it and thought it ingenious and creative in the name of art. there was praise for it from critics, too. apparently the curators of the museum had an ongoing spiff with the organizers so they one-upped them by hiring dancers and not showcasing irrelevant blocks of marble and bronze in vaguely formed human shapes. akashi still remembers that performance, and the awe that he felt seeing them move in tirelessly practiced coordination yet entirely fluid motions that it seemed to him rhythm was as natural as breathing to the dancers, which it most likely was.

what transpired then between akashi and furihata in the ensuing party to celebrate the overall success of said event held in kagami’s loft was the actual better part, but akashi would rather keep it to himself than talk about it to be honest.

“and besides,” says furihata, smiling sheepishly at him like he always does when he knows furihata is feeling self-conscious, “i can’t help that i love to dance.”


	5. Baby AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> your otp(s) finding a baby in a basket on their doorstep
> 
> original post date: Dec 17, 2012

seijuurou is the one to adopt the baby after he and kouki have a lengthy discussion regarding the matter over ice cream. they recognize their incapability to produce a child, as well as the fact that they cannot marry in japan. kouki knows it will be better for the little miracle they found on their doorstep too, so he has no complaints whatsoever.

he’s just really happy right now. seijuurou too, kouki knows, because the way he holds the sleeping baby in his arms cannot be anything other than an uncontainable love.

kouki silently watches seijuurou change the baby’s–theirs, and her name is megumi–clothes from the other side of the bed, a pint of ice cream on his hands. seijuurou raises an eyebrow, a silent reprimand to kouki for bringing food on the bed, but does not look away from megumi. he carefully pulls her arm inside a sleeve and finishes changing her clothes with a gentle kiss on her forehead. she’s grown a little more since they first found her. if anything, it’s mostly because of seijuurou’s pampering. he’ll be the clingy type of father, for sure. furihata chuckles at the thought of seijuurou being pushed away by megumi when she reaches her teenage years.

“are you finally going crazy? laughing all alone like that, it’s creepy.” seijuurou stares kouki down, the same way he used to do in their youth. kouki still finds seijuurou’s stare somewhat unnerving, but he’s past that’s alright. at least he’s past wetting his pants in fear now (not really, but it used to feel that way). instead, he places the now empty can of ice cream and reaches out to seijuurou with a peacefully sleeping megumi in his arms. he gives them each a kiss on their cheeks.

“when you’re finally a teenager, don’t push your daddy sei away for being too clingy okay, megumi-chan? he’s just really persistent with things.”

“what, and you’re not?” seijuurou huffs, just a little bit annoyed.

“i don’t think so, no.” kouki’s answering grin is teasing. unable to resist kouki, seijuurou sighs. kouki’s grin grows wider.

“stop that. and don’t lie in front of our child.”

“yes, yes, i’m sorry daddy sei.”


	6. War AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wwii-ish au, actually. gift fic to [wafucchi](http://wafucchi.tumblr.com/).
> 
> prompt: memento mori.
> 
> original post date: Aug 16, 2014

i.

when morning came the remnants of last night’s celebrations became mere memories. happiness is fleeting, the aftertaste, bitter grief.

seijuurou grips kouki’s hand like a lifeline, but kouki only smiles at him.

“honestly, i feel so much worse for kagami,” kouki says, “he just got married yesterday, after all.”

there’s a letter in his hand, sealed with the national army’s insignia. when seijuurou still lived in tokyo, all the capable men received one. so now they’re gathering people from the countryside too? kouki hasn’t even saved enough for college. seijuurou felt his anger coming to a boil inside him, but where should he vent it?

“so sei,” kouki says, still so insufferably cheerful, “spend the day with me, okay?”

 

 

 

ii.

the moonlight peeking through the curtains dance gently on kouki’s skin. they’re tanned from days upon days of working in the rice fields under a hot summer sun, contrasting with seijuurou’s paler complexion. seijuurou liked that a lot.

the country really was different from the city–the people and the surroundings. it was fresher and more relaxed here. when the doctor said it will be better for his body, his father quickly arranged for him to stay in the countryside. seijuurou didn’t have any qualms about it, though he hasn’t heard from his father ever since. the hustle and bustle in tokyo was comforting in its own way, but the peace here was so different. seijuurou felt more free. and when kouki found him–

seijuurou sneaks a hand under kouki’s yukata, right over his heart, feeling kouki’s heartbeat. they’re both alive in this moment. seijuurou sighs, and goes to sleep.

 

 

 

iii.

“i’m leaving tomorrow” kouki had said in between kisses. “wouldn’t it be nice if i could have escaped with you? unfortunately, we didn’t even have a chance.”

“maybe other people have done that before,” seijuurou replied.

 

 

 

iv.

when morning came, not a single cloud was on sight. it was awfully bright. seijuurou felt betrayed.

“you swept the lawn, watered the plants, and fed my cat,” seijuurou says during breakfast. kouki looks up at him, still chewing, and smiles.

“i thought you would appreciate it,” kouki says after a while, “seeing as i’ll be gone for a while.”

“don’t take too long then,” seijuurou says. suddenly his throat is dry, and his food tasteless. he puts his chopsticks down on the table, for fear that he might break them. “i’ll get mad if you leave all the house work to me.”

grinning brightly, as if all was right with the world, as if it was still in the middle of summer when all seijuurou could feel was a cruel coldness seeping through his bones, kouki replies, “of course.”

 

 

 

v.

akashi waits.


	7. 1001 ways to die AU: I will always love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! contains: mentions of blood, a little violence, murder ooohh, death
> 
> title from [the cure's "lovesong"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXCKLJGLENs). akafurichat fic.
> 
> original post date: April 18, 2015

in his first life, he remembers being a foot soldier. he remembers the enemy’s scarlet banner declaring victory, the gray skies, and the tear-filled eyes of his killer as he gave him death.

 

 

his second life had less death, but didn’t mean the absence of it. he was a ten year old during this period, and he lived in a castle. he had a weak body, and so was always confined to his room. he had a nurse, a kind woman always wearing a red jacket that contrasted with her black hair and pale face. she always smiled. even when furi realized that his medicine was not in fact medicine, she was still smiling down at him, gentle, as she sang a lullaby for him, and even as she told him,

“goodnight my prince.”

 

 

in his seventh life, he died of old age, and this was also when he first loved. his wife was so beautiful, and she conceives a child. but as she was giving birth, mortality took her and the baby. her dried blood stained his bed sheets for a while. a cruel reminder of what he could have had. he used them every night he went to sleep.

 

 

he doesn’t bother remembering much in his following lives.

 

 

by the time he’s counted down to his fourteenth life (or is if thirteenth? fifteenth? seventeenth?), he is reborn as the second son in a family full of warmth and receives the name _kouki_. (he doesn’t remember his past names)

at 15, he hasn’t died yet, so that must mean a good thing. kouki could easily wake up to the sound of his alarm clock and not the cry of city in ambush in this time period. he wasn’t alone here. fun things existed here.

“ _kuroko kawa and fuku are coming over,_ ” kagami tells him via phone call. “ _i’m baking cake. you should come too._ ”

well, kouki liked it here.

 

 

in the winter of the sixteenth year of his current lifetime, kouki meets akashi seijuurou and sees flashes of towns going up in smoke, war, and the poppy fields with a graveyard at its center.

he should have fled. ran as far as he could. but kouki didn’t. he trembled, but held his ground and fought akashi head on because he didn’t want to lose. (they win)  
he meets akashi again later, sitting by a vending machine, head drooped down, a drink in hand. furihata almost runs (he should have) but akashi calls out to him.

“you’re furihata kouki, yes?”

furihata turns, and nods.

“i’ve had dreams of you,” akashi says, “i’m always killing you. you never resisted me. why now?”

kouki hums, and thinks back to kuroko’s grief, his mom and dad and big brother, his friends, kagami’s pastries and fried rice, his lives lost in gruesome deaths. oh, it’s his turn to take care of nigou this week, too.

“i didn’t want to lose to my sadness, i guess,” kouki laughs. he walks toward akashi and holds out his hand. “i’m happy now. i don’t think i’ve ever been as happy.”

akashi nods. he takes kouki’s hand and lets himself be pulled up.

“i don’t want to dream of killing you anymore.”

kouki smiles at him. “i don’t want to die anymore either.”

 

 

it’s a strange feeling when death comes to make friends with you, kouki thinks. he’s just turned thirty, and he’s still alive, still happy. but kouki also knows, he’s going to die someday. and live again. he always has. just, not now. not yet.

his phone rings, and he hurriedly picks it up, seeing the name on the display.

“kouki,” the person on the other end says, “happy birthday.”

“thank you, seijuurou,” kouki sighs. “i’m here at the restaurant already, you’re late as always…”

 

 

he’s still alive, still happy. maybe happier.


	8. Childhood friends AU: Loving you (Is really all that's on my mind)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to try writing boring het routes, and also childhood friends and furi wearing akashi’s old clothes. i wanted more feelings involved in this one, but it’s almost 2am and it’s hard to words, okay. title from [beyonce’s "dance for you"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PGc9n6BiWXA).
> 
> aka/ **fem!furi** , takafuri  
> fem!furi is _mitsuki_ , which is another way to read the characters of his name.
> 
> original post date: May 25, 2015

so here’s the thing: seijuurou has been friends with mitsuki his entire life that he knows they’re both so comfortable with each other enough that they could probably change clothes in front of each other (not to the point of getting naked, though) and they wouldn’t even blink an eye. he could probably even throw in a joke like, “mitsuki, you should definitely lay off those puddings,” and get a lacy c-cup bra thrown in his face in retaliation. once upon a time she was always a shivering mess in front of him, and at one point cried because “seijuurou looked so scary”.

of course, being comfortable didn’t translate to seijuurou being immune to mitsuki at all. because he wasn’t. not in the least, especially when mitsuki was lounging around in shorts and in his threadbare disneyland souvenir shirt (practically hers now, smells like her now) and on his bed, like she belonged there, so all seijuurou could really do was stare at her in disbelief (not at her legs–smooth, slender, probably soft to the touch and no, seijuurou) while she played games when they had book reports and club files and other things that involve more papers and more readings to work on.

“mitsuki, don’t you have to finish math?” asks seijuurou, because he knows she hates math and because he knows math is his best subject. mitsuki hums in acknowledgement, but ignores him anyway. the music coming through the tiny speakers of her game console changes into a battle theme, and mitsuki crosses her left leg over her bent right knee. seijuurou counts prime numbers in his head.

“i’m going to ask satsuki-chan tomorrow,” she says, when the battle theme changes into one of a victory. “there’s some things i didn’t understand.” the corners of seijuurou’s mouth twitch slightly downward.

“then i’ll teach you,” he says, sounding a little put off. honestly, why was mitsuki so irresponsible? “you shouldn’t make it a habit to procrastinate.”

that gets mitsuki’s attention, because she sighs so deeply then sits up on the bed, closing her game console and turning to akashi with a pout.

“and bother you, mr. always-early-never-has-free-time?” she says, gesturing at seijuurou’s desk and the piles and piles of books and folders on top of it.

“i’m already doing advanced work,” seijuurou replies, just a little bit proudly. mitsuki rolls her eyes at him in response, and then promptly flops back down on the bed, face first.  
to seijuurou, it’s admittedly getting a little harder to not be aware of how mitsuki was changing from awkward angles into graceful curves each day. he’d been with mitsuki since they were kids, introduced by like-minded business people parents, so he’d really hate to tell her one day that she’s not allowed to hang out in his room alone with him anymore, a perfectly healthy young man, just because seijuurou couldn’t get a hold of himself. of course, that wasn’t the only reason. there were other people, too. boys and girls and everything in between, and the people that mitsuki goes out with. recently, mitsuki has been hanging out with a guy named takao kazunari from class e.

“you’re always so busy,” mitsuki whining through seijuurou’s egyptian cotton bedsheets, muffled but loud and disappointed enough. seijuurou’s eyebrows knit. “you never have time for anything else but work, work, school, club, work. you don’t even have time to go to the ice cream shop downtown with me anymore.”

“it’s not like we don’t see each other at school,” seijuurou reasons. they’re classmates, he’s club captain and mitsuki leads the team of managers. “or outside school. you’re on my bed right now, as we speak. and i’m already giving you my attention. i’m going to tutor you in math.” mitsuki’s eyebrows raise at that, and then she’s grabbing a pillow and throwing it at seijuurou, which he catches before it hits his face anyway.

“seijuurou! you’re so mean!” she shouts, furious. she makes a wreck of his meticulously arranged bed, and cocoons herself in his blankets.

(seijuurou makes a mental note to ask the maids to have them change, because he’s sure that when mitsuki has left and he’s all alone, he’ll look for traces of her that she’s left behind in there, and he doesn’t want to be alone with thoughts of nothing but mitsuki, mitsuki, mitsuki. he’s not a creep; it’s not proper conduct and certainly not how to treat a lady.)

“you should be thankful i’m even giving you my time and care,” mitsuki huffs. “i could have been out on a date right now, one that definitely could have been more enjoyable than just sitting here and listening to the sounds of your scribbling on paper or you telling me to work on my math. ugh!”

when seijuurou says, “then why didn’t you,” he didn’t mean for it to sound angrier and colder than he wanted. he bites the inside of his cheek.

“because maybe i didn’t want to spend time with someone else,” mitsuki says weakly after a brief period of silence. and then she’s getting out of her blanket cocoon and looking seijuurou in the eye. “because maybe, i wanted to spend time with you. you’re my bestfriend. of course i want to spend time with you. but you’re always so busy! and always brushing me off in favor or something else more important like freaking math or sado-sensei’s science research paper assignments.”

seijuurou’s throat goes dry. he doesn’t respond.

“you’re so mean seijuurou,” mitsuki whispers, voice cracking, before getting out of seijuurou’s room, picking up her discarded uniform and bags and then out of his room. seijuurou doesn’t chase after her.

(he gets his sheets and pillow covers changed.)

when his schedule frees up the following week, seijuurou’s first thought was mitsuki, and invite her for ice cream. but when he finds her behind the bleachers by the side of the baseball field, takao was holding mitsuki’s face in his hands and kissing her. he consoles himself with the thought that soon, mitsuki will go back to hanging out in his room, and complain to him about her failed dates again. wear his shirts, mess up his bed, and read his books. that he’s her best friend, that everything is fine, and that no, he didn’t want to be the only person allowed to kiss her.


	9. Canon Universe, with Pining AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >Mostly Takao-Furihata talking about Midorima, and a little of Furi pining for everyone’s favorite last boss. (supposed to have MidoKaga too but couldnt fit it in ahaha)
> 
> original post date: Nov 24, 2015

 

 

“I don’t know, Takao. Midorima just seems so…” Furihata says, trailing off in a pause. His brows furrow as he searches his mind for an appropriate word to describe Midorima.

“ _Straight laced_ ,” is what Furihata thinks of. Takao snickers first, then dissolves into peals of laughter. It was offending, and did not ease Furihata’s anxiety at all.

It’s not as if Furihata’s observations were unfounded. To outsiders, Midorima was too stiff, has what one could call a “resting bitch face”, far too eccentric to be considered just “weird” in the way that Western pop artists would dress in slabs of meat, or how Japanese fashion subcultures were likewise seen by the rest of the world.  Though, he supposes, since Takao has achieved Best Friend Status, he would know how Midorima really is beyond just lucky items and full court three pointers.

“Sure, whatever you think Shin-chan is,” says Takao later, still grinning, on the verge of laughter. Not a good friend, Furihata thinks.

“Straight laced could be it, but _straight_ ,” Takao adds, gesturing quotation marks, “he definitely isn’t.”

“What do you–?” Furihata asks in confusion and, upon realizing a moment later, “Oh. _Oh my god_.”

“Yeah, I know right?”

“I mean? _What?!_ Is it even okay for you to tell me this?” Quite frankly, Furihata was more than just surprised at the revelation. “How did you know? Is Midorima okay with you outing him so casually?” Furihata looks around them in alarm, sighing in relief when no one seemed to be paying attention to their corner of the court.

“Oh, sure,” Takao says, dismissing Furihata with a wave of his hand. “Shin-chan’s not hiding it. I mean the team knows, Teikou probably knew, if you asked him he’d tell you frankly.

“There were a bunch of guys from the club who were, well, vocal in their disapproval. Said it was immoral and shit.” Takao’s face darkens, and Furihata could only ask how it ended.

“Shin-chan might be a weirdo, but he plays by the rules, you know! Well, sometimes.  With approval from the coach, he destroyed them single-handedly in a game. It was fucking raw,” says Takao rather enthusiastically, slapping his thigh for emphasis.

Furihata releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. On the other side of the court, Midorima stood in a circle with the rest of their companions–friends made along the way. Forged by rivalries, kept by mutual love for a sport, made stronger by camaraderie and youth–scolding Kagami and Aomine in fury while the two glared at each other. Kise looked like he was trying to appease the three of them into reconciliation. It wasn’t working. Behind him, Momoi, Kuroko, and Murasakibara formed a small circle around Nigou, petting and adoring the puppy. Akashi, watching beside Midorima, had his arms crossed in his chest. He never spoke, but every now and then he’d bite his lip, as if stopping a laugh from escaping. His hair has grown out, framing his face better than that terrible cut he gave himself, and he looks far less menacing than he did the first Winter Cup Furihata saw him. He still was, though, and Furihata still found himself nervous just standing beside him.

But, Akashi was never severe, and one Furihata mistakenly feared once. He might be strict and firm, but he was patient, and kinder still. Furihata admires him, more than he had any right to.

And that’s what scared him most.

He had none of Midorima’s skill and grace, nothing to keep him in the limelight, nothing to interest Akashi. Heck, if he had to tell his team he was gay, and duke it out with basketball, he probably wouldn’t even be able to score a point.

“So don’t worry about the face Shin-chan made at you. He wasn’t saying he’s disgusted in your life choices,” Takao says, extending a hand to pat Furihata in the shoulder. “My Shin-chan translator says he means that he’s disgusted in your life choices in _men_. Not that he’s got it any better, just so you know.”

That was a relief, but it also wasn’t enough.

 


	10. Cash, Diamond Rings, Swimming Pools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is a [song by dena](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4CDc9yCAqE) (pls watch it it’s so awkward)
> 
> established relationship akfr + akashi on the road to sugar daddy-ness + flirting with cuddling.
> 
> original post date: Mar 6, 2015

halfway into watching laputa, furihata blurts out, “you’re only seventeen but you could already be a qualified sugar daddy. have you ever thought of that?”

akashi hums. kouki probably didn’t put much thought in his statement, and how did he go from laputa to the topic of sugar daddies? on the computer screen, sheeta reveals her true name. furihata is cuddled up to him, occupying the space between his legs and with his head on akashi’s chest.

“don’t you have to be a certain age to be one?”

pazu gets knocked out.

“i don’t think so? as far as i know you only have to be successful and have too much…” furihata pauses there, and gestures money with his hand.

akashi chuckles. sheeta orders pazu to leave, and pazu is heartbroken. furihata isn’t really bothering to enjoy the movie by now, but this is akashi’s favorite ghibli.

“kouki, we’re only in high school.”

furihata laughs, and snuggles closer to akashi. “says the guy with the black card,” he adds when sheeta’s robot set everything on fire.

“if i was one, would you apply?” akashi asks. in a low, bedroom-appropriate voice. for added effect, he places his hand on furihata’s hip, rubbing the protruding bone with his thumb. furihata shudders.

“i can give you anything you want. i’d shower you with money too, but you’re gonna have to make me _happy_.” he whispers, adding a kiss at the base of furihata’s neck.

how convenient that life would be, furihata thinks. how many games would seijuurou buy for him? and basketball shoes? food and tuition won’t be a problem for when he reaches college, and maybe seijuurou can let him stay in one of his posh houses across tokyo (alone, among many). like the one they spent a weekend in in setagaya.

“hm, well, i could,” furihata answers laughing a little when akashi kisses near the ticklish spot behind his ear. “but i don’t think i’d like to bother answering people when they ask me where i got a brand new shiny red sports car from.”

akashi chuckles, and tries to kiss furihata on the cheek when furihata turns and meets his lips halfway with his own.

“and i’m already making you happy aren’t i?” furihata asks, grinning.

“you could make me happier right now,” akashi says with a wink (furihata nips his jaw for it), hands not so subtly wandering upwards beneath furihata’s shirt.

“pervert,” furihata says, circling his arms around akashi’s shoulders and pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

meanwhile, pazu and sheeta escape with the pirates, fitting well with the odd group on their way to finding laputa, except none of the two get to see that part, in favor of more fun things to do.


	11. Idiots don't catch colds!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a terrible attempt at crack. for [wafucchi](http://wafucchi.tumblr.com./) who should really get well. another akfr for u bby girl
> 
> >akashi who is sick and is an idiot when with a cold being nursed by furi
> 
> original post date: Aug 17, 2014

“they said ‘only idiots catch a cold’ so why is it that i”, akashi wonders out loud, “had caught one myself?”

furihata, sitting by the bed keeping watch and being a clumsy nurse, bites his lip and does not reply. akashi glowers at him as best as he can, but his vision’s too hazy from how teary-eyed he’s getting.

“i’m pretty sure the correct phrase is 'idiots don’t catch colds,’ akashi-kun,” furihata says three minutes later. the obnoxious way his lips are curved upwards betray his attempts at showing he’s not laughing. “so i think you’re safe from being grouped with you-know-who from our school, and touou’s ace, if that’s what you’re worried about.” if akashi wasn’t sick, he’d definitely give furihata a lecture on Why That Comparison Was Totally Uncalled For.

it’s so annoying though, that of all days, akashi had to catch a cold just before he and furihata finally had time to hang out together.

“i don’t like this,” akashi grumbles, burrowing deeper in his comforters. he’s feeling rather sleepy all of a sudden. for a moment, akashi sees furihata reach for the washcloth on his forehead, then making a comment akashi didn’t quite catch. it was all too blurry, and he was too tired…

akashi falls asleep to the feeling of a refreshingly cold washcloth on his forehead, and a hand holding his tightly.

 


End file.
